


throw shadows at you

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F!Han Solo, F/M, Movie: Star Wars: A New Hope, Tatooine Slave Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-05 16:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20491886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: Han keeps running into this Luke Skywalker kid, and she can't figure out why.





	throw shadows at you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darkrosaleen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkrosaleen/gifts).

"You never could resist a pretty face," Chewie teased her as Han handed over the credits to the Hutt's agent.

Han ignored him, focusing instead on the nervous face of the handsome youth she'd just purchased. The kid had the darting eyes and thick line in his neck, knotting in dampened outrage under his collar, that told her he hadn't been born to this life. Now his eyes darted to Chewbacca. "What did he say?"

The Hutt's man, an arrogant bastard Han would gladly wipe the floor with if she ever got the chance, smacked the kid on the back of the head. "You will address your new owner as 'ma'am,' worm."

Han said, "He said he likes to rip the arms off slaving scum. Come on, kid. We're going." She turned on one foot and led the way. When the kid didn't follow, Chewie reached out a paw and pulled him with them as the agent took a hurried step away. The kid was the only one up for sale today, and Han hadn't been buying. She couldn't say why she'd put down the money. Something in the boy's eyes had spoken to her, and then it had simply been a matter of playing the auction until she picked up her prize.

"We needed that money," Chewie said. "You had better have a plan."

"Now what's he saying?"

"He said you ought to learn Shryiiwook."

"No, he didn't," said the kid. Definitely hadn't been born into slavery. Probably some hard-luck case who got picked up by the wrong band of bandits or sold off to pay a family debt. He had bruises on his face, which only accentuated his youthful good looks, and oh, Chewbacca was right, Han had bought him because he was gorgeous.

She sighed as they neared the ship. "What's your name, kid?"

"Luke." He hesitated. "Ma'am."

Han started to tell him to knock that off, and at the same time, she couldn't help notice the pleasant shiver it gave her as he said it. Fine, so it had been a long time since she'd last gotten laid. She wasn't going to buy herself a sex toy. She'd felt bad for the kid, for Luke, and she'd done him a solid. That was all.

"Luke, I don't have any need for a slave. You can work off what you owe us." Before she got another word out about needing a second mate for a couple of trips, Luke got the jump on Chewie, to no one's surprise more than Chewbacca's, throwing him three meters away before darting off.

Han's hand went to her blaster, and she had to keep herself from shooting. She stopped Chewie from chasing him. "Let him go."

"He owes us money."

"I know he owes us money." She didn't want to get into another fight with her best friend, not here in the spaceport. "I'll get it back from him later."

"How?"

"I'll figure something out," which was what she always said when she didn't have a clue, and they both knew it.

* * *

In debt up to even Chewie's eyeballs to Jabba the Hutt, they were hard up enough to money that they were working the cantina scene, looking for any trade they could get. Weapons, spice, no matter what, Han was willing to fly it as long as the owner paid her in hard credits.

Chewie saw the old man first, but it was his companion that caught his attention, and Han's as well. The kid was older, but they were all older, and he didn't appear to recognize his benefactors. Han told herself she was lucky and not irritated as she haggled with the old-timer for her old payment on top of the new one for smuggling them both off-world.

She wasn't so sure about that luck when the stormtroopers showed up, but her girl was the fastest ship in the galaxy. As soon as they were in hyperspace, Han wandered to the lounge, her eyes resting once again on the handsome face that had caught her eye.

"You don't remember us, do you, kid?"

Luke looked at Han, then at Chewie. "I wondered."

"Never did figure out how you threw Chewie here halfway across the road."

"He used the Force," said the old man. "Luke, you've been using your powers for some time. I can guide you in the ways of the Jedi."

Han laughed, her belly full of chuckles. "Jedi? I thought I knew some spacer's tales, but that one's a relic. The Jedi were a story. Nobody ever thought they were real."

The old man gave her a patronizing look, and Luke's face went offended and angry. "They were real. My father was a Jedi."

Han hadn't learned a lot of kiddie stories in the Corellian sewers of her childhood, but even she knew that couldn't be right. "Whatever you say, kid." She changed the subject. "How did you wind up on the auction block?"

"Oh," Luke said, with a guilty expression that went sad. "I had an argument with Uncle Owen and ran off." Han had heard the story a dozen times before. Ferrying someone off-world to freedom didn't pay as much as smuggling a load of ryll, but she took the difference in the better sleep she got on those trips.

* * *

Han hadn't slept in about two days, but she made up for it by running for her life for most of the time, and maybe saving the whole Rebel Alliance in the course of it.

"You came back because he was pretty," Chewie said as they landed inside the base to cheers.

"Shut up," Han said, and ran down the hatch. She couldn't stop grinning as she pulled Luke and the princess into a huge hug. She got more handshakes from people with 'General' and 'Admiral' in their names than she had met in her whole life, and somewhere about the fifth or sixth General, she wished she'd worn a nicer shirt. Somewhere around the second or third celebratory glass of someone's latrine-brewed hooch, she stopped caring again.

When she crawled into her bunk that night, tipsy and gleeful, she found it was already occupied. Luke had accepted a few glasses of booze, too, and crawled back to the last bed he remembered he had.

Her heart gave a flip, but her head said this was a terrible idea. She poked Luke in the shoulder. "Wake up, kid. You're in the wrong bunk."

Luke made a snuffling noise and rolled over. Han sighed, but there was room for two or three, maybe four. She'd never had the guts to ask Lando any detailed questions about the extra-wide bunk in the captain's cabin.

She had wanted to get Luke into her bunk since she'd first met him, and here he was, and she was too drunk to do anything about it. Figured, she thought, and yawned, and climbed into the bed, asleep before she rolled over onto her side.

* * *

Han woke up with a headache, and with Luke Skywalker staring her in the face. "Good morning," she said.

"Uh, hi."

"You found the wrong bunk last night, farmboy. Maybe lay off the booze until you know how much you can handle."

Luke blinked, still muddled. "This is going to sound weird, but did we....?"

Han propped her head on her arm. "You mean you don't remember? It was amazing, the kind of ground-shaking kriff that pops corks from bottles and redefines the nature of sex for the rest of the galaxy."

Luke rolled over, his head back on the pillow. "So we didn't."

"No." What the hell. He was pretty. She stretched, then threw one leg over his, crouching over him as his eyes widened. "But we could."

"Han," Luke started, and her stomach clenched. He was going to tell her no, tell her he was already head over heels for the princess, tell her that he was sure they could stay good friends.

"Yeah?" she asked, bracing for the let-down and already shifting her weight to move off him.

"I haven't done this before." His eyes stayed wide, but the smile playing on his mouth was pure delight. Beneath her, she could feel the heat of his clothed body. "You'll have to tell me if I'm doing something wrong."

"Kid, I would love nothing better," she said, and kissed him, hard, biting down on his lower lip and drawing out a pleased whine while she tugged off her own vest and reached for the hem of her favorite old shirt.

Luke made up for his lack of experience with the enthusiasm she'd been hoping like mad he'd bring to the table. Speaking of tables, even as she straddled him, sinking down with a happy groan onto his thick prick, she imagined the two of them bent over the dejarik table in the lounge, feet looking for purchase as he drove into her. It had been ages since she'd had someone all over the ship. Chewbacca could go to his cabin and ignore them.

A few times, she watched Luke's eyes go soft and distant. One night of sleep wasn't worth a spit to erase the last couple of days of hell, including the hell he'd gone through even before he'd walked into the dingy cantina and back into her life. Han kissed him each time, bringing Luke back to the here and now. She'd spent enough of her own crummy life hung up on past mistakes and someone she couldn't save to understand there was nothing better than living for today with the person you had with you tonight.

"Han, I," he gasped, close to the edge. Han grunted as she shifted, taking his hands and putting them against her breasts. She wanted the feel of him right there, caressing her nipples as her left hand reached between them to stroke herself hard. Luke was already coming, jerking beneath her in spasms of pure ecstasy, his bad memories temporarily burned out of his skull by hot pleasure. She rode him, taking her own pleasure from his warm hands clutching her breasts and his involuntary thrusts and the well-known work of her own fingers. She let go with a deep moan, her body writhing over his and between her own slitted eyes, she saw his face go slack and pleased as she clenched him deep inside herself in her orgasm.

She let her body finish before she slid off him messily, then rested against him. "Thanks, I needed that."

Luke managed a weak chuckle. "Likewise. Han, uh," he looked at her, another worry growing on his face. She'd seen that look plenty of times, too. She showed him his upper arm. Han couldn't really see the scar any more, but she pointed out where she thought it was.

"Repro injection," she said, fingering the spot. "I'm good for another two years at least."

"Oh."

She rested her head again. "They have repros on Tatooine?" She hadn't spent much time on that sandball of a planet. She'd think with the thriving slave trade, repro injections would be standard, but she didn't like the direction her thoughts took, and she shook her head to clear it.

Luke blushed, bright even in the darkened cabin. "Yes."

"Good."

"Are you headed out after the ceremony? You've got your payment."

This was always the awkward part. She'd gotten used to being the one who ended the morning after with a reminder that she had places to be. But just as she had on that first day when she'd seen him while she'd been passing through the auction looking for ship parts, Han Solo had a strong feeling she wanted Luke Skywalker to go with her wherever the next place was.

"I have to go, kid. I've got a price on my head. I'd rather pay Jabba myself than let some two-cred bounty hunter collect my skin."

"Right."

"The offer from before stands. You could come with us." She'd almost said "me," but that was the kind of risk she wasn't willing to take, not now.

"I belong here," he said.

"Yeah. I guess you do." Luke wasn't going to leave, and Han couldn't stay, and that was just how things were. No use getting broken up about it. "Hey, Chewie makes a great Ornithian three egg omelette. We could talk him into cooking breakfast before they give us those medals tomorrow." She glanced at the chronometer. "I mean, later today."

Luke didn't answer. Instead he rolled over, straddling her much the way she'd jumped him not that long ago. He kissed her hard as her belly gave a jump and all the oxygen left her brain.

Maybe she could stick around a little while longer.


End file.
